


Temptations

by ladyoflalaland



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Light Angst, Masturbation, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, Resolved Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoflalaland/pseuds/ladyoflalaland
Summary: Dedue is not sure if Byleth intends for him to hear her moaning his name through the wall that separates their rooms. Dedue is not sure if she knows what her noises do to him, how badly he wishes to join her.Dedue is almost certain Byleth does not know how impossible it is for him to admit his feelings, which grow with each passing day.
Relationships: Dedue Molinaro/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 22
Kudos: 98





	Temptations

**Author's Note:**

> My dear friend keepleaves came up with the original idea for this story. I am grateful she gave me permission to write about it. I hope my writing does her idea justice. 
> 
> Come chat with me on twitter @ladyoflalaland
> 
> Content warning for brief, canon-typical mentions of mental illness and parental death.

The first time Dedue hears the noise through the wall separating his room from the professor’s, he thinks she is in pain. The return to Garreg Mach after so many years imprisoned and on the run has been difficult; it has been so long since Dedue has heard someone moan in pleasure that his brain comprehends nothing but pain. Instinctively, Dedue springs to his feet, reaching for the axe he refuses to keep anywhere but at his side, steeling himself for the battle to come. But, as Dedue makes to open his door, he hears a new sound amidst her moans: his name.

As the adrenaline from the prospect of battle begins to fade, Dedue’s heart continues to pound. A new feeling takes its place.

In many ways, it would have been simpler just to hit someone with an axe.

* * *

Dedue has always been comfortable with Byleth. If he were honest with himself, she might be the person he feels most comfortable around. Dimitri, especially of late, causes Dedue more heartache than happiness. The prince is now mercurial, a shadow of his former self. Watching over Dimitri has always been the most important part of Dedue’s life. Dimitri is someone he values, respects, cares for deeply. But, there is a newfound joy in Dedue’s time with the professor. A new way his heart squeezes and a smile forms on his lips when she enters the room, no matter how Dedue tries to school his face into expressionlessness.

Now, after hearing the professor in the darkest hours of the night pleasure herself to thoughts of him, Dedue is not sure how to behave around her.

The professor, for her part, treats Dedue no differently the morning after. She smiles at him, her soft, quiet smile, as she passes him in the cathedral. Dedue forces himself to _breathe_ and to focus on Dimitri, standing at the edge of the rubble that was once an altar when she is near. It is likely, after all, Dedue is mistaken. It is likely he heard only the wind, or the professor muttering to herself as she wrote out battle plans.

But, later that night, as Dedue polishes his armor, he hears it again: the professor and her bed sighing in unison, the throaty tenor of her moan. Dedue bends his head over his armor, wishing for some way to block out the noise.

The professor is an adult. If anyone in Garreg Mach deserves to relax, it is the professor.

If the professor chooses to think about him as she does it, that is hardly Dedue’s problem. He has other things to worry about: the war, Dimitri, the nightmares he still has.

After everything Dedue has been through, it seems trivial to go to bed, long after the noises from the professor’s room have quieted, with a strain on his heart because tonight he did not hear her cry out his name.

* * *

Felix likes to pretend his father’s death does not affect him, but Dedue feels the emotions behind every punch. Dedue has not sparred like this, for training, for fun, with a _friend_ (Felix, now, after everything, could maybe be granted the title), in many years. For a moment, a lightness overtakes him: a joy, despite the death around them.

His face remains unreadable, but perhaps Felix can feel Dedue’s emotions in each strike, just as Dedue can feel Felix’s. Felix seems to lighten too.

Round one ends in a draw. This is a casual match, no need to exert themselves too much in the middle of a war, but Felix has never been one to fight without stakes.

It is very warm in the training room. The whispers of summer are felt in Harpstring Moon.

It is just him and Felix in the room, so it is hardly improper for Dedue to remove his shirt.

It is not until near the end of the second round that Dedue notices the professor and suddenly the sharp edges and planes of his chest no longer feel proper to have bared.

Suddenly, his scars feel like embarrassments.

Felix defeats him easily in round two.

“Thought you would put up more of a fight,” Felix says. Dedue is unsure whether his tone would be considered playful or mocking. It is difficult to tell with Felix.

“I will not go easy on you anymore,” Dedue responds, voice level.

The professor watches still. It is not as if he can put his shirt back on now, skin drenched in sweat.

Round three goes even more poorly and Dedue feels something split in his side — perhaps new, perhaps a wound from years past. Felix stops the match.

“You should see to that.”

Dedue says nothing.

“Fine,” Felix sighs, “I’ll go get Manuela or Mercedes if you can’t be _bothered_ to take care of yourself.”

Perhaps Felix is a friend after all.

And then Dedue is alone with the professor. She approaches, holding out a clean handkerchief. When Dedue nods, she presses it to his side. After a long moment, Dedue feels Byleth place her hand on his arm, fingers brushing against the curve of his bicep.

She is, he thinks, checking him for more injuries.

Dedue stares straight ahead, not meeting her eyes all the same.

“You are only hurt here.” Byleth withdraws her hand. She was only checking him for injuries after all.

Dedue nods.

“You have started training again.”

“Dimitri needs me less now.” Dedue offers by way of explanation. In the days since Gronder, Dedue has seen the light return to his friend’s face.

It is Byleth’s turn to nod. “You have more time to focus on your own interests.”

Dedue is not sure what she means. He can spend a little more time cooking and in the greenhouse now, but it hardly seems right to take more time for himself during a war.

And then, slowly, lightly, Byleth presses her hand to his stomach, flattens it against his abdomen. He can feel her fingers running gently up his body. Perhaps it is Dedue’s imagination, but her touch seems to grow firmer against the muscles of his chest.

Dedue closes his eyes and exhales. Byleth withdraws her hand.

“I thought I saw more blood.”

Dedue is not sure what Byleth thinks any more.

That night, as the professor sighs and whimpers upon her bed, on the other side of the thin wall, Dedue shamefully runs his hand up and down his cock and comes when she cries out the loudest. 

* * *

Dedue does have more time for hobbies now he no longer needs to shadow Dimitri. Usually he cooks with Ashe or Mercedes, but today he is in the kitchen alone. Good ingredients are scarce. They need to ration their food. But, it seems to Dedue, morale is increased whenever he bakes a cake.

Then he is not alone. Byleth appears at his side without a word.

Dedue offers her the bowl of egg, sugar, and butter. She accepts with a nod.

They work in silence. Dedue sifts flour into a bowl, adds a pinch of salt and cinnamon. Byleth beats the wet ingredients to a thick cream. Byleth holds the bowl as Dedue pours, scrapes, mixes again, and then pours the batter into a pan. Batter spills on his hand. Dedue lowers the bowl, looking for a rag to clean it with but Byleth places her hand on his arm. He watches almost without comprehension as she brings his hand to her mouth. He feels rather than sees her tongue slide across the back of his hand, his finger go into her mouth.

Without thinking, Dedue pushes his finger in deeper. Sees her lips close around it. Tries not to groan as her tongue moves across its tip. Feels the blood rush to his groin and his pants tighten as his cock swells in response to the way she so eagerly takes part of him into her mouth.

As quickly as it starts, Byleth withdraws his finger from her mouth and wipes him off with a rag. She says nothing, so Dedue says nothing as well. Instead, Byleth peers into the oven, checking to see if it needs more wood before they put the cake in to bake.

The wood in the back of the oven is burning at a good rate. Dedue adds a few more logs before sliding the cake in as well.

“This should be done in thirty minutes.” There is a lot Dedue and Byleth could do in thirty minutes, alone in the kitchens.

Byleth only nods and walks away. As soon as she leaves the room, Dedue brings his palms down onto the counter, harder than intended and shakes his head back and forth slowly. The countertop is cool against his hot skin.

Dedue knows madness is nothing to take lightly. Dedue knows of anguish beyond description. But Byleth, Dedue thinks, is going to drive him _mad._

* * *

It is not right to masturbate to the noises Byleth makes, so Dedue lies in bed each night, pillow over his head, cock half-hard, trying to think of something, anything else. If only Byleth would let him know what she wants _._ Dedue, of course, would have to turn down a serious relationship: his service to Dimitri must always come first. Although of late, Dedue has been having undesired thoughts about how a life with Byleth at his side might be wonderful.

Dedue has been pushing such thoughts away. He must push such thoughts away, no matter how they make his heart ache.

Still, Dedue wishes he knew if Byleth meant for him to hear her bliss. And if she did, why not talk to him about it? Shyness could be the cause, as could the taboo nature of their relationship, either due to Dedue being her former student or a man of Duscur.

Or, does Byleth simply enjoy tempting him?

Dedue shakes away such thoughts. She could not know how she tortures him. How his cock throbs each time she whimpers. How he ignores the desire some nights, forcing himself to think of his duty, to think of his station, to think of anything around the want.

How, when the heat and the ache and the lust become too unbearable, he strokes himself off as quickly and quietly as possible and prays the professor will forgive him for the way he imagines her as she must be on the other side of the wall, bared and slick, stretched around his dick the way she might now be stretched around her own fingers.

The shame is almost as unbearable as the desire.

Dedue fears and anticipates Byleth giving him a sign that she wants him. He wishes she would approach him somewhere quiet, with just the two of them: in the greenhouse, cooking together, or after a battle, when she is sweaty and powerful and he is happy she is alive. Perhaps at a moment like that, she will kiss him and she will ask and Dedue can finally be at peace.

Until he leaves her to serve Dimitri.

Or to sacrifice his life, this time totally, fully, for Dimitri.

Dedue remembers this and the fantasy ends. Byleth can never be his. He can never be hers.

Except at night, when there is no war, no duties: nothing between them save for a stone wall.

* * *

It is unfair of Dedue to say Dimitri is his _duty._ Dimitri is the person Dedue cares about the most. Has the most history with. Even in a world where Dedue and Byleth… even in another world, Dimitri will always be Dedue’s most cherished friend.

The battle goes smoothly, but Dimitri notices the way Dedue tries to angle his body, his shield between both Dimitri and the professor.

Dimitri pulls him aside, when it is clear the enemy is driven back and the battlefield holds no more dangers for the moment.

Simple things, like the way Dimitri claps him on the back, make Dedue smile.

“You do not have to defend me so ardently anymore, Dedue.” Dimitri’s tone is jovial, even playful. Dedue is glad to see his friend happy, but he feels a knot in his stomach, anticipating Dimitri’s intent. “If there is, forgive me, but if there is someone else you would rather protect—”

Dedue interrupts, pulling away from Dimitri. “There is no one, your majesty. Dimitri.”

Dimitri’s expression turns thoughtful. “It might be best for both of us if we prepare now for a future where we have others we hold dear.”

Dedue shakes his head. All he can prepare for at the moment is the next battle, nothing more.

* * *

When it finally happens, Dedue is unprepared. Or rather, he is as he usually is on the nights where Byleth is vocal: hard, trying to sleep, trying not to wonder if Byleth would want him to be assertive or passive, to worship her like a queen or to use his large hands to put pressure on the places on her neck that make her go lightheaded with pleasure.

Dedue is so used to the noise at this point that he is more flattered than startled when he hears her moan his name. In many ways, it is a relief; it has been so many weeks since that first night when she said it, Dedue has begun to think he imagined it.

After his name, a soft moan and the whine of her bed. Then, something new—

“Oh fuck. Harder, Dedue.”

Dedue grips his sheets. He certainly misheard.

“Don’t hold back with me, Dedue.”

His eyes open. He feels hot. He pulls the sheets off. The heat does not dissipate.

“Goddess, you make me feel good”

Dedue stands, paces. This isn’t— he shouldn’t—

“I need you to come inside of me.”

If Byleth’s moans made Dedue hard to the point of aching, her words, hearing what she imagines _him_ doing to _her body_ makes Dedue’s cock throb. He is not sure he has ever been this hard. He is not sure he has ever been this needy. Dedue tries to breathe, tries to steady himself. He feels his breath shake as he exhales: his nails dig into his calloused palms.

Byleth cries his name so loudly, Dedue is sure half the monastery will wake. He finds himself opening his door before he can register what he is doing. As the night air hits his hot, sweat-drenched skin, Dedue is shaken slightly from his reverie. He is going to knock on the door. To tell Byleth she is being too loud. To tell her they need to talk about this calmly, rationally in the morning.

Then he will go back to bed.

He will not let Byleth see his dick, hard as a rock, more than a little obvious through his sleepwear. He will not let her know he wishes to do all the things to her she said and more. He will not—

Dedue knocks too hard. The door falls open. Before him, his professor lies on her bed. Before him, his professor uses one hand to knead her breast, the other to work furiously between her legs.

Dedue shuts the door, not wanting anyone else to see the professor like this.

Not wanting to take his eyes off her.

For a second, they stare at each other. Byleth removes her hand from between her legs, and Dedue sees how wet she is. How empty she looks without his cock inside of her. How large her breasts are: far larger than he ever imagined they would be.

Byleth speaks, voice smaller, quieter, but just as thick with desire as her voice through the wall.

“Will you?”

Dedue nods and everything begins to happen faster than Dedue can comprehend. He is pulling down his pants, barely registering the “Oh” that passes Byleth’s lips as his cock springs free. He is on Byleth’s bed, hearing it complain at their combined weight. She is kissing him. He is kissing her. He feels those large breasts against his chest and that incredibly wet, hot place between her legs slide up and down his cock. Dedue lets out a sigh as Byleth takes his dick in her hand and lines him up against her. He is so eager to be inside her that Dedue thrusts in— too deep, if the whimper that leaves Byleth’s mouth is any indication.

He is barely a quarter in and she feels incredibly tight, despite her wetness. After nights of temptation, Dedue cannot stop himself from taking _more._

“I’ve never— you’re the biggest—” Byleth pants. Dedue moves in her, pulling out slightly, before thrusting in again, only halfway. Byleth whines and Dedue comes to his senses.

“I can stop.” Dedue is not sure if he can. But perhaps if he pulls out now, if Byleth lets him fuck her tits or her mouth, he can come just as well. Then, she can practice taking his full length and girth later, on a night when they aren’t pent up from lust.

“No.” Byleth’s eyes are watering. How did Dedue not notice that? How did he not stop before he hurt her, pushed in too far? “Please. Keep going. I need to feel all of you.”

Dedue is not sure he can get his entire dick into Byleth, but her words are all the consent he needs to _try._

“I said I wanted you to fuck me hard, to come in me, didn’t I?”

She had intended for Dedue to hear.

Dedue only responds by trying to take her a little deeper. He cannot imagine how Byleth must feel, but he can see the way she stretches around him, hear her whines, see the sweat on her breasts, her brow.

Byleth’s hands squeeze the sheets and Dedue is struck by a sudden desire to hold them down as he thrusts into her.

To show her exactly what her words did to him.

Byleth’s eyes widen as, in one move, Dedue slams his entire length into her and wraps his hands around her wrists, pushing her onto the bed.

Byleth only moans. “Yes, yes. This is what I wanted. _Use me._ ”

Dedue can hardly disobey her command. Byleth is tiny under him, her legs stretching to fit around his waist. Dedue fucks her rhythmically, relishing in the way her tits bounce, in the way her pussy better accommodates his dick with each thrust. She takes him so well, for such a small woman. As if her body was built to be fucked, to be used, to be claimed, by Dedue’s. He pushes her hands further into the sheets and picks up his pace, enjoying the way Byleth’s eyes widen whenever he fucks her in a way that hits her perfectly.

Dedue is happy to hear her moan even more than she did through the wall. He wants her to feel better with him, to come harder with him, than she ever has before. Dedue unclasps her wrists and moves his hands to her breasts, unable to stop himself.

“You can squeeze them.” Byleth gets out, through the whines and the whimpers and the “Oh-fuck-Dedue”s. Dedue takes her breasts in his hands, toying with them, running a finger across Byleth’s nipple and fucking her in the way he can tell she likes to be fucked: in the way that makes her close her eyes and bite her lip with each thrust.

He feels Byleth tighten around him, sees her close her eyes again as she comes around his dick. This time, she doesn’t make a sound, but she does pull at the sheets and buck her legs so hard, Dedue feels he might fall off if he wasn’t so single-mindedly focused on finishing inside of her. With one more thrust, Dedue feels himself come as well, emptying into her forcefully. The release is heavenly and Byleth lets out one last moan when he does; his dick alone is too large for her, to add his come on top of that fills her entirely too full.

Dedue does not pull out right away, kissing Byleth’s hair, feeling her kiss his shoulder, until she begins to squirm under him.

“You are heavy.”

Dedue pulls out, rolls off, finds something with which to clean them both.

“I was wondering when you would join me,” Byleth says.

You could have asked, Dedue thinks.

“Stay with me?” There is an emotion in Byleth’s voice that makes Dedue’s heart ache. An emotion he feels as well. An emotion he must ignore.

Still, Dedue nods. Gets into the bed. Byleth peppers kisses in a strange pattern across his back.

The heartache returns when he realizes she is kissing along his scars. Dedue pulls her in for a long kiss, fighting off that emotion he now can name, but dare not utter.

Staying tonight can cause no harm. In the morning, he will go back to protecting Dimitri, to ending the war.

For tonight, Dedue wants to relish being next to Byleth. It is nice, Dedue thinks, to have nothing between them, no wall, no misunderstandings, nothing but the words that must, for now, go unspoken.


End file.
